


low on self esteem (so you run on gasoline)

by GeneralHuxNeedsRest



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Armitage Hux Needs A Hug, Hux is Not Nice, Issues, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, M/M, Psychological issues, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Writer!Hux, bad parentage, hux had a breakdown, hux is so fucked up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-19 01:53:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13694409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeneralHuxNeedsRest/pseuds/GeneralHuxNeedsRest
Summary: “Law?” his father always speaks while eating, spluttering saliva and food while doing so. He reminds Armitage of a pig. “Boy, you are not going to be able to study law, not with your condition. You should pick something easier. Something that will not strain your nerves too much. You do not want last year to repeat, do you?”Last year didn’t happen because I wasn’t be able to bear the strain, he thinks, last year happened because you fucked me up so much that I can’t function like a normal human being.But he doesn’t say anything aloud.





	1. Cras, cras, semper cras, sic evadit aetas

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, guys.  
> I am writing another fic - actually, I started just today and wrote over 3000 words in one go, which is rather unussual for me.  
> I should probably warn you, that this fic is not going to be for the faint of heart. Hux's situation is a bit inspired by my own - constantly fighting and a bit emotionally detached parents which fucked me up a bit. I too started a prestigious college but found out that it was not the best idea and now I am Stuck At Home for the next seven months.  
> However, I didn't get alcohol poisoning like Hux in this fic.  
> Enjoy.

  1. chapter



 

_Cras, cras, semper cras, sic evadit aetas_

__

__“_ All remaining systems will bow to the First Order and we’ll remember this as the last day of the Republic!” Hux is high on power and he doesn’t remember the last time he felt so good; so powerful, so strong....do detached from reality. For a moment, he wonders what is Kylo Ren doing, but quickly banishes the thought; it is not the time to think about him. _

_“FIRE!”_

_He feels the red light filling his eyes, his brain, his mind. He makes sure to show no emotions on his face._

Armitage hits the keys with much more force than necessary, but he doesn’t particularly care. The laptop he is writing on is old and slow and he only uses it to write. The new one, which he got the summer before starting college _(you fucking idiot, you useless piece of shit, you never do anything right)_ is hidden in its box, resting of the top shelf of his wardrobe, waiting for September when it will be of use again __(_ maybe you will not fuck up so much this time, maybe you will not become a failure again). _

He is quite content with the scene he just wrote; it shows just how fucked up Brendol Hux is, how full of rage and hatred he’s become. __(Just like you, you fucked up cunt).__ He loves the speech; it has a certain melody, it has a mood. He even watched some of Hitler’s speeches to get it just right.

He takes a glance at the time and sighs. It is 3:26 am. He is tired. But then again, he has been tired for a long time now.

 

Armitage Huxley is a fucked up control freak with a lot of issues and a dictatorship streak. It doesn’t bother him too much, really; after twenty years, he’s managed to come to terms with what he is and live in peace.

Most the time.

At least few days every month.

He tries, really.

 

“Armie, wake up, we are going to work.” His mother’s voice crushes his dreams once again. “You take your brother to school, okay?”

He buries his head under the pillow and begs for death. Another morning. Another day. Another nightmare from which he will not be able to wake up.

It’s February. There’s nearly seven months of this Hell before him. He closes his eyes and contemplates falling asleep again, just giving up on everything, letting life take its course. Then he lays his gaze on a post it note he put on the wardrobe next to his bed.

_Wake up. Go around your business. Go to sleep. Repeat._

Everything would be easier if he just had the guts to throw himself off the bridge. For everyone.

Unfortunately, he is a weak, pathetic piece of shit. At least that’s what his inner critic keeps on saying. Sometimes, Armitage wants to strangle that prick. He is pretty sure that he would be better off without him.

In the end, he manages to kick himself out of bed, get dressed and make himself look human again (or as human as one could look after four hours of sleep. Armitage is pretty sure it’s not healthy; he either sleeps too much or too little). He is ready to face the world and pretend to be sane again.

When he finally comes downstairs, their parents are already gone; so is his younger sister and for a moment, he wishes to be in her place. He wants to be a teenager again, to have an excuse to be the way he is. He wants to feel like he can change the world again.

_Pathetic, so pathetic._

“Morning,” he tells his younger brother who just ignores him and continues to watch some video on his tablet.

Armitage snorts and shakes his head. When he was a child and ignored someone this way, he would deeply regret in. Not mentioning the fact that he could not even read at the table, let alone watch some uncivilised videos. The fact that there were no tablets when he was nine was beside the point.

“Just what have I done to you when you won’t even tell me good morning, hm?” he asks, preparing himself tea. “Cat got your tongue?”

His brother shows him middle finger and that’s it. Armitage has had enough. He is not a laughing stock.

He slams his hand on the table, hard _(so hard that is actually stings and his palm is red, but he is too angry, too pissed off to notice)_ and then yanks the tablet out of his brother’s hand.

“I was trying to be nice to you and you just ruined it, again,” he hisses and feels himself go red in the face. “For fuck’s sake, can’t you just ONCE act like a normal child?”

His brother hits him in the arm and takes his tablet back. Armitage lets him. He only has the strength for one angry outburst.

“Why do you have to be so terrible, I can’t wait for you to finally leave,” says the nine-year-old in a grumpy voice.

“Somebody has to put you into your place, when you parents won’t do it,” Armitage hisses and takes a deep breath. He hates it when he loses control and lashes out like that.

He always realizes that it is exactly what his father would do and hates himself for it.

 

An extraordinary child, they called him. You must be so proud of him, they told his parents. Your son is bound for greatness. So brilliant, one day he might be a president!

_You must be so proud of him_ , says the little voice in his head mockingly. _Sure thing. The unlucky accident that destroyed lives of five people. Proud of him, my ass._

Sometimes, he blames his mother for not getting an abortion. Sometimes, he hates her for marrying Brendol Huxley, the good-for-nothing tyrant with a napoleon complex. But most the time, he hates Brendol Huxley for making him the way he became.

He hates his father for fucking him up, for putting another broken thing into this world, just because he didn’t have enough brain to keep it in his pants.

He was clever, that was truth. Ambitious, intelligent, always knew how to play people to get exactly what he wanted. Gifted student. Admitted to one of the best universities in the country. And then he cracked.

His polished outer exterior cracked and when he realized that there was nothing inside, he cried and tried to fill the empty space.

With alcohol, mostly.

When he looks back, it might not have been one of his brightest decisions. It surely wasn’t one of his brightest moments, letting his roommate get him drunk until he was throwing and coughing up blood (that moment still scares him; even now, few months later, there is this hypochondriac part of him asking “what if it wasn’t because of the alcohol, what if you are actually dying of come hidden cancer?).

He cracked, he broke, after all those years of trying to hold himself together and stand tall, all of that effort went for nothing. He broke to million little pieces and still didn’t manage to pick them all up and put them in the right places.

He doubts that he will ever be able to do it.

The funny thing with control is that, you see...it is hard to and once you loose it, getting everything in order again is even harder.

His parents didn’t even come to pick him up from the hospital (yes, hospital; it is called alcohol poisoning, you know?). He had to go back to his dorm, pack his things, with stomach on the water, while everything around him was still swaying slightly.

He had to go home by train, four hours with nothing but self-loathing, depression and thoughts like _I wonder what would happen if I just jumped out _.__

_An extraordinary child, my ass._

 

“Do you know why Mum and Dad are always fighting?”

“Ahh, what happened to giving me the finger when I ask you something?”

Charlie is quiet for a while. They are walking down the street together. It is the middle of February and the weather can’t decide whether it is still winter or spring and the snow beneath their feet is a watery mess. Armitage knows that by the evening, it will be freezing again.

“I just sometimes feel angry, you know? And you piss me off.”

“Language, Charlie.”

They cross the road.

“So, do you know why they fight?”

“Not because of you, do not worry. They were like that long before you were born.”

“And why did they get married, then?”

Armitage is getting irritated again. “What about you are this talkative when I tell you good morning when I come downstairs, hm?”

They are close to the school. Armitage can see a lot of parents and their children. Families. Sometimes, he wonders what it would be like, to have a normal, loving family.

He shakes his hand. _It would be boring and you would probably find something else to sulk over,_ says his father’s voice in his head. Armitage wants him to shut up.

“You don’t have to walk me all the way to the door, you know,” Charlie says and lets go of Armitage’s hand.

“What, are you embarrassed that your friends would see?”

“Oh, just shut up, Armie.” Charlie runs to the gates where a group of boys in his age has already formed, waiting for him. He waves at Armitage before joining them.

Armitage smirks and turns to leave - only to walk into a man standing right behind him.

“What the heck, man, watch your step!”

Armitage raises an eyebrow. He knows the man before him, everyone does; Ben Organa-Solo. The only son of the politician Leia Organa and a former drug smuggles Han Solo.

They went to nursery together. Armitage has hated him ever since.

“Fuck you,” he says and makes a motion to leave, but Ben puts a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“Language, man,” he says, motioning to the little girl standing behind him.

Armitage just raises an eyebrow. His parents used to swear and call each other’s names in front of him all the time when he was a child. He always thought that kids should be intelligent enough to understand that they cannot speak the same way as the adults do. Not everyone seems to understand things the same way he does, though.

“Well, sorry. _Heck you_.”

Ben scowls. “Don’t I know you?”

“I don’t think so.”

Armitage walks past him, eager to get home _(no, not home, it is a house, it’s never been a home) _,__ lock himself in his bedroom and write until he forgets about reality.

“Armitage, is it? Your name is Armitage! I am sorry I laughed at your freckles in the nursery!”

Armitage doesn’t turn, doesn’s say anything in return.

He spends the next few days in a gloomy mood, sleeping too much, eating too little, wasting time away by staring into the void which is not even interested enough to stare back.

 


	2. Beata solitudo, sola beatitudo

“Did you start filling out new university applications, boy?”

Armitage doesn’t move a muscle, doesn’t allow his father to see how sick and unease this question makes him. He even had to say new university application, had to remind him of his failure, of how he is currently wasting a whole year of his life.

“I was thinking about law,” he says quietly.

“Law?” his father always speaks while eating, spluttering saliva and food while doing so. He reminds Armitage of a pig. “Boy, you are not going to be able to study law, not with your condition. You should pick something easier. Something that will not strain your nerves too much. You do not want last year to repeat, do you?”

_Last year didn’t happen because I wasn’t be able to bear the strain, he thinks, last year happened because you fucked me up so much that I can’t function like a normal human being._

But he doesn’t say anything aloud.

“I think that our Armie would make a great teacher,” says his mother in a cheerful voice.

“Do I need to remind you the face he makes when you need him to take care of Charlie?” Brendol Huxley doesn’t even look at his wife. “You’ve always been too soft on him.”

_And that’s why I don’t hate her as much as I hate you._

“I think that I am good at languages,” he says. “Maybe I could be a translator.”

“You have less than two months to fill out the applications. You should have decided months ago.”

_Months ago, I was this close to slicing my wrists and now you are pushing me close again._ He wishes he had the guts to stand up and tell his father all those little thoughts he has. He wonders how would he react and if it would make him feel any better.

Instead, he quietly finishes his food and retreats to his room.

 ***

“This is so fucked up.” His sister scrolls the document up and down, re-reading certain parts. “You made your alter ego into a space Hitler, Armitage.”

“It’s either this or I down an entire bottle of vodka in one go until I am over.”

Rebecca fixes him with a cold gaze. “For fuck’s sake, Armie,” she says. “Pull yourself together. You have to go on. Your fucking drama is getting out of hand.”

“Should I pretend that everything is fine? Like Mum and Dad do it?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s how the rest of us do it. That’s how you did it before you decided to go Where No Man Has Gone Before.”

“Conversation is over, go to your room and study or something,” he cuts her short, closing the laptop and opening the door for her.

“Why do you have to be such a bitch?”

“I am your older brother, it is my job to be a bitch. Now go, your math is doing poorly.”

 ***

It is well after 11 o’clock, with his siblings asleep and no angry voices coming from downstairs _(it was always like that when he was younger; his siblings fast asleep, only he was awake to hear their bickering and  muffled curses)_ , when he reluctantly opens websites of various universities. Nothing too big, nothing too posh, nothing prestigious. He’s long past that. He only wants a small university, far enough from his parent’s house, but not too far from his siblings (even if they sometimes piss him off, they are his siblings and he loves them and if someone ever lays hand on them, he will tear that poor motherfucker apart).

Finally, he finds something that seems just right. Two hours long train ride, decent reviews, dormitories that are cheap enough for him to pay by himself, if he’ll manage to get a little part time job. _(And he will get it, he doesn’t doubt. He is capable, responsible. Or will be, once he puts himself together)._

Now he only has to decide what to study. Definitely not medicine - that’s what his father pushed him into. He is an adult, old enough to make his own decisions.

He bookmarks the website and goes to sleep.

 ***

The following day begins the same way as the previous ones did. His mother wakes him up. By the time he comes downstairs, it is only him and Charlie again.

Fortunately, Charlie decides to behave, so his day doesn’t go to shit from the beginning.

It goes to shit the moments he bumps into Ben Fucking Solo again.

“Have a good day, Charlie,” he waves his brother goodbye and wants to leave as quickly as possible, get back to his book and bitter tea, but he is not quick enough.

He spots him.

“Hey! Hey, Armitage!”

He lets out a long-suffering sigh and turns to face Ben. Up close, he sees the boy from nursery. Somewhere deep there. Beneath all those muscles, definitely.

“Ben,” he says shortly.

“You ran away so fast yesterday, I didn’t even have time to apologize, I didn’t realize it was you straight away. How are you doing?”

_That big, stupid oaf. What does he think I will say? Spill my whole, tragic backstory to him?_

“Fine,” he says and crosses his hands over his chest.

“We should definitely go and sit somewhere sometimes, you know? For a coffee or something!” Ben Organa-Solo seems like a stupid, excited puppy. Just as Armitage remembers.

But he knows better. _Oh, he knows things._

He wonders if Leia Organa has already put two and two together and found out what caused her husband’s accident.

He most certainly did.

He finds himself smiling like he didn’t in a long time; it is a dangerous, feral smile of a cunning fox who just came up with a plan.

Ben Solo doesn’t notice. Kylo Ren would.

“That is a splendid idea,” he purrs. “And what about that little girl?” he points to the girl from yesterday, hiding behind Ben again. “Is she yours?”

Ben laughs. “No, not at all. That is my cousin.”

_The one whose father you tried to kill?_

“Oh, really? And how old are you?”

Girl looks at him with disdain and Armitage knows right away that she doesn’t like him. He is used to it. He doesn’t like children and they don’t like him.

“Oh, come on, Rey, it is rude not to answer!” Ben says, but his cousin only hides her face in his leg.

“She is not usually this shy,” he apologizes to Armitage. “She is four, by the way. How old is your brother? Unless you hit it off with that girl from nursery, what was her name...Gwen?”

“Phasma,” he says. “No, we didn’t....it is my brother. He is nine. So I could not be his father unless I had him when I was eleven.”

“I remember the two of you were always hanging out together,” he laughs. “Okay, I shall probably drop this little one in her class...and if you’ll still be here by the time I come back...” He smiles. “You can pick the place. My treat.”

 ***

Since Armitage prided himself in being an asshole and knew that Ben Solo can afford it, he picked the fanciest, most expensive coffee shop in the town. Ben didn’t seem to mind.

“Just how are you doing? Where have you been hiding? I haven’t seen you in ages and we live in the same damn town!” Ben got himself probably the sweetest coffee they got. Armitage settled for a cup of Earl Gray.

“Well, I was busy,” he answers. _And so were you, weren’t you?_

“Did you go to university? I heard you were a smart kid.”

He flinches at these words, but doesn’t let anything show. He can feel himself slipping back into his old self and it feels wonderful.

“Yes, I did,” he says. “But then I realized that medicine is not really what I want, so I decided to quit. I am at home now. It is kind of a gap year. I don’t regret it - I have time to spend with my family and decide what I really want in life.” He always loved just how easy he was able to say things that were not entirely lies and neither the truth. He loved how he just knew how to bend the reality so that it made him look good. He was proud of being able to choose just the right words to make people think so high of him.

“That is good, man! I...I am officially on my gap year...my mother” - he pauses at the word and Armitage just knows - “my mother thinks that I will go to college in September, but...I am not sure. I don’t really think that I am suitable for any college.”

_No, Ben,_ Armitage thinks grimly, __I_ don’t think you are. You don’t even need it, after all - with your friends..._

“I am pretty sure that in the end, you will make the right decision.” Hux offers him one of his best smiles - the one that says __I am sincere, I only wish you the best, I find this conversation pleasurable.__

He trained that expression in front of a mirror countless times, until he made sure that i was perfect.

“And what are you doing with your gap year?” _I am pretty sure that you are not wasting your days away just like I do._

Ben looks uncertain. He has him.

“Well...I had to get a job, you know...It was not too easy - Mum...Mother said that she would not help me with it, that I have to make it on my own...” Something like anger flashes in his eyes. “I started working for my uncle, but...then I found something better.”

Armitage has to restrain himself from laughing out loud.

He sips his tea. “Better? How so?”

“Well...there is this business man in town...Snoke, you know him?”

Armitage nods. Of course he does.

“Well, he came to me and asked if I want to work for him. Security stuff, mostly. It is pretty good.”

“That’s good. I am happy for you. Anyway...I heard about what has happened to you father, I am so sorry, Ben...”

Ben Organa-Solo swallowed nervously. “Yes, it’s...it’s terrible. He is still in coma...the doctors are not sure if he’ll wake up again.”

__Y_ ou are probably quite happy about this, are you not, Benny-boy? What if Daddy spilled the beans and told everyone what has really happened? _

The rest of their conversation was boring, uneventful. They exchanged phone numbers, agreed to meet again and then Ben paid for them both.

The moment they parted, Hux picked up his phone and called his only friend.

“Phasma? You know how you told me, few weeks ago, that I should get a hobby and move on? Well, I found myself a wonderful pastime.”

 


End file.
